


Therapeutic

by afteriwake



Series: WIP Big Bang Accomplishments [43]
Category: CSI: NY, Law & Order
Genre: Angry Danny, Best Friends, Boss/Employee Relationship, Calm Mac Taylor, Confessions, Doctor/Patient, Drinking & Talking, F/M, First Dates, First Meetings, Gen, Intervention, Lennie Knows Flack, Lennie's Opinion, Lies, Lindsay's Past, Lunch, Lunch date, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Mandated Therapy, Moving On, Old Friends, Other Fandoms Not Mentioned in Tags, POV Multiple, Planned Meeting, Post Episode: s02e24 Charge Of This Post, Pre-Danny Messer/Lindsay Monroe, Questions, Relieved Skoda, Stubborn Danny Messer, Sullivan's, Supportive Lindsay Monroe, Therapy, Threats, Understanding Emil Skoda, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2019-09-21 03:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17035679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: In Danny's eyes, the hits just keep on coming...though this particular hit may turn out all right in the end.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This came from two sources: the first was random conversations with friends about how badly certain characters on CSI: NY needed therapy after the end of season 2. The second was from a specific conversation with my mother, who was the one who suggested: " _someone like Skoda should handle Danny's therapy._ " And it stuck. And it grew. And now this. Trust my mother, who's an L&O fanatic, to plant this particular bunny in my head.

Dr. Emil Skoda looked at the file on his desk. Normally, he didn't work with the NYPD on anything but cases. But every once in a while, there was a person who would grab his attention. This file held information on one of them.

He sat down and picked it up. It had been walked over and put it directly into his hands by the man in charge of the crime lab. Skoda adjusted his glasses and began to read up on the man who was important enough to the crime lab that they'd ask _him_ to deal with his mandated therapy. 

Detective Daniel Messer. Graduated at the top of his class, was hand-picked for the crime lab by the man in charge, Detective Mac Taylor. Came from a family in Staten Island who may or may not have had connections to a crime family. His brother had been a member of the Tanglewood Boys, though Detective Messer had kept his own nose clean. He'd had a string of horrible luck lately...shot an undercover cop, and then went against his boss when he dealt with it. Was the prime suspect in a fifteen-year-old murder until his brother wore a wire and cleared him, getting beaten into a coma in the process. Two of his co-workers had both been severely injured, one by an ex-boyfriend at her home, the other in the nasty round of explosions that had gripped the city recently. And then there was the gruesome murder of a former co-worker that he had been close to.

Skoda kept reading. The more he read, the more he realized he was getting the same feeling he'd had when dealing with Stabler, only there were times he wondered if Stabler was already a lost cause. This guy...this _kid_ , because in all honesty that's what he was...with some help, he could end up surviving his job. Skoda closed the folder and tapped it on his desk a few times. Detective Taylor's belief in his team was common knowledge around the department. And if Taylor had handpicked _him_ to help deal with the troubled young detective, the least he could do was try.

**\---**

"Mac, I don't _need_ therapy." Danny stood inside Mac's doorway, holding up a piece of paper. "I'm just fine."

"You're lying," Mac said without looking up from the paperwork he was filling out.

Danny took a deep breath and counted to ten before exhaling and replying. "It's not affecting my job."

"It is."

"Is this true? Are you going to fire me if I don't go?" he said, shaking the paper.

"I will."

"Are you going to answer everything I say with two words?" He was getting angry, angrier than he had been once he'd read the letter. An official letter, not even from Mac, saying that he needed to go into therapy with an NYPD approved psychiatrist.

Mac finally looked up. "I picked the man out myself, Danny. He works with the homicide department. He's a good doctor. And from what I've heard, he can even deal with hotheads like yourself." Mac pulled a file from his desk, set it down on his paperwork and opened it up. "You have six sessions to begin actually talking to him. I'll give you that much time. If you don't start making progress in a few months you're going to have to leave the lab."

Danny bit his tongue to keep from saying something. He was beyond pissed. Absolutely enraged was pretty close to the truth. "No one else is having to do this."

"No one else is as close to a breaking point as you are." Mac gave him a look, one that signaled that the conversation was over, and Danny took the hint and stormed out of Mac's office.

This wasn't the way he had wanted things to go down. Had he had his way, the last six months would never have happened. Stella and Flack would never have been hurt, Aiden would never have been murdered, Louie would never have had to try and clear his brother's name...

With that, Mac sighed. No, he didn't want things to turn out the way they had, but at the moment, he was dealing with the fallout as best he could. And he was going to try his best to make sure Danny did the same.


	2. Chapter 2

"Come on, it's just therapy." Flack sat on one side of Danny, Lindsay on the other, all of them at the bar in Sullivan's. Danny hadn't said much when he'd stormed past Lindsay on his way out of Mac's office, and she'd gotten Flack on the phone as fast as her fingers could dial the unfamiliar number of his home. They'd agreed that the two of them would try, with Flack putting emphasis on the word "try," to get Danny to give it a chance. 

It wasn't working so well.

Lindsay glanced around Danny at Flack. She raised her eyebrow and he nodded. Her turn, now. "You don't want to lose your job, right? So just do it and get it over with."

Danny turned to look at her. He didn't say anything but she honestly had not seen that look on his face. Ever. In the year or so she'd worked with him, even when he was angry, she had _never_ seen him look like that. She involuntarily moved backward. If looks could kill, she reasoned, she'd be dead. "Don't try and be her," he said quietly, pushing away from the bar. Lindsay blinked for a second, saying nothing until Danny had left the bar. She moved over to the stool next to Flack.

"What the hell was _that_ about?"

"Aiden used to talk like that," Flack said quietly. "You wouldn't know since you didn't know her, but that's how she talked to him. Especially when he had to go see a psychiatrist last time, for the psych eval." He took a drink of his soda; the pain meds he was on precluded him from drinking alcohol, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I know it sounds like I'm trying to pry so I can get closer to him, but...what kind of relationship _did_ they have?" She looked down at her own drink. "I mean, I feel like lately, I've been walking on eggshells around him, you know? And Stella said it might be because he's started looking at me as Aiden's replacement, even though he didn't before." She took a drink of her beer. "Don't know when he'll bite my head off..."

"He's blown up at you?" Flack asked. 

She felt compelled to look at him, and shrug. "A little, maybe. I...I don't really know. He doesn't yell or anything, not really. He just gives me a look and goes all silent," she said quietly.

"He'd never yell at you. He likes you too much," Flack said, taking a deep breath. "Something's got to be wrong with him."

"Which is why he needs to go!" Lindsay said, frustrated. "Hell, I went through years of therapy myself. And it helped," she said, calming down a bit. "Maybe it'll help him, too."

"We just have to get him to go and talk to this guy," Flack said. He realized Lindsay's gaze hadn't left his because it seemed like she was waiting for him to come up with a plan. "I don't know what to do about it, Lindsay. He isn't going to listen to us, losing his job doesn't mean that much to him right now..."

She looked away and hung her head. "Danny's a good guy." She folded her hands up on the bar. "And he doesn't need to hurt like that."

"You trying to convince me or convince yourself?"

Lindsay and Flack's heads snapped over to Danny, who was standing behind her. He reached over and grabbed the pair of glasses he'd left on the bar, which neither of the other detectives had noticed. "I'm just stating the truth," she said quietly.

"You were in therapy?" Danny asked. The cold anger that had been on his face seemed to have dissipated as he sat down in the stool Lindsay had abandoned. "For what?"

"I got hit when I was a kid, and the officials thought it was abuse. It wasn't, but they figured therapy was a good idea. My parents weren't my problem, but I _was_ having problems." She unclasped her hands and spread them in front of her. "Therapy...helped." Both men looked at her and realized there was more to the story, but they both sensed Lindsay didn't want to open up to either of them right now.

"Why don't you want to go, Messer?" Flack asked. It cut across a lot of bullshit and got to the point.

"Because no one else has to go," he said, holding up a finger. "Because I don't need it, because it doesn't work and because all shrinks are the same and they're only in it for the money." He held up the four fingers on his hand, making sure Flack and Lindsay could see it.

"Your job depends on it, you need help, Mac handpicked the guy so you know he's got to be in it for something other than fame or fortune, Mac _trusts_ this guy, and you're going to push your friends away if you don't get some of that help you don't think you need. Starting with Monroe and I here," Flack said, holding up five fingers in Danny's direction.

Lindsay reached up and brought both men's hands down out of her face before turning to Danny. "The point is..." She could articulate what she wanted to say, but it turned out she didn't need to because Danny took a long hard look at the two of them and let out a defeated sigh.

"I'll go."

"Good," Flack said. "And we'll be here for you, as long as you give it a chance."

"You better," Danny mumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

Danny looked up at the building. It was nice enough. Normal brownstone, not that close to any of the precincts he was known at or the labs. Looked a little posh from the outside, but this guy _was_ a doctor, after all. Flack had called him this morning reminding him of the appointment, not that he really needed any; he'd been on the phone with Lindsay the night before and _she'd_ reminded him as well.

He hadn't talked to Mac about this, about anything regarding this since that point in his office or about Flack and Lindsay pushing him into going. He hadn't talked to Stella or Hawkes or anyone else, for that matter. Maybe Flack was wrong with what he'd said in the bar. Maybe he'd already pushed away his friends and Flack and Lindsay were the only ones he _had_ left. _I mean, Aiden's dead, Flack's not at work and I barely see him these days...Lindsay's the only one around and I'm pretty sure half the time she's had it with me,_ he thought. That entire train of thought was depressing.

Depressing. Just how you wanted to look and feel when walking into the office of a shrink... He straightened his shoulders, adopted his "I don't give a fuck" face, and walked inside.

****

\---

Dr. Skoda looked at him, getting his first impression. He wasn't sitting in one of the waiting room chairs; instead, he stood by the window, looking out. He looked like a serious man; Skoda caught a glimpse of the expression on his face, and his glasses made him look older than what his file said. Not too much older, but enough for Skoda to realize that this man had some heavy burdens on his shoulders.

"Detective Messer?"

The man whirled around and Skoda got a full measure. It was disturbing how much this man reminded him of Det. Stabler. It was in the way they held themselves, the way they stood, wary and somehow vulnerable. Though, Skoda realized, this man in front of him had more vulnerability than he'd ever seen in Stabler. So maybe there was hope. Danny walked towards him. Neither man reached out a hand for a handshake; instead, Skoda stepped into his office enough to let Danny inside, and then he shut the door behind Danny and gestured to a couch before he situated himself behind the desk.

Danny was quiet for a moment. And then, before Skoda even opened his mouth, Danny blurted out, "I don't want to be here. Just thought you should know that up front."

Skoda nodded. "Understandable."

Danny blinked for a second. "Friends of mine...they're pushing me to come here."

"So it's not the fact that your job's on the line if you don't see me that's making you attend therapy sessions with me?"

"Much as I want to be a cop, I can do other things." He didn't mention he'd maybe stay a cop, he'd just have to go back to being a beat cop if things with him didn't improve. No working at the labs, no detective status...it'd all be gone.

"Your friends...do you work with them?"

Danny kept his mouth closed. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to give this a chance. To hell with the promises he made to Flack and Lindsay... "Yeah," he said, finally deciding he didn't want to be known for breaking promises as well as a temper. Like the two of them had pointed out, he was pushing his friends away, and he didn’t need to lose them.

"They must care about you."

Memories flashed. Flack trying to get him to go home and not talk to IAB when he'd shot the cop, Lindsay giving him the DNA results that implicated him in that murder...yeah, he realized, they did care. "Guess they do."

"And you care about them?"

"Yeah."

Skoda nodded slowly. "Detective Messer...I'm not going to make you talk. I might prod you with questions, and you can go into as much or as little detail as you want to. You can even ignore them. But I am going to tell you each week I'll be giving a report to Detective Taylor so he can judge your progress."

"How much information are you actually going to tell him?"

"The details of what you say here remain between you and I; not even the NYPD can get me to tell them anything unless they or I feel that it may put you or someone else at risk. And I've dealt with enough hotheads to know when you're letting off steam and when you're serious."

Danny's face quirked into a small half-smile on its own accord. "Hothead, huh?"

"Yeah." He paused. "You talk about non-work things here, I won't give them specifics. You talk about work, I may go into a little more detail, but nothing that breaks doctor/patient privilege. Mostly, I'm supposed to tell them if you're going to have a nervous breakdown or not."

"I can already answer that, Doc," he said. "I'm not."

Skoda nodded. "I'll make a note of that." He leaned back in his chair. "Back to your friends. Want to tell me about them?"

****

\---

Forty-five minutes later, Danny walked out of the brownstone. The guy wasn't so bad. True to his word, he prodded a little. Danny didn't talk about Aiden at all; he mentioned stuff about Stella and Hawkes and Mac. Mostly he talked about Flack, all about things that happened before the bombing, and about Lindsay, in a general kind of way. He didn't know what to make of this guy, and as far as he knew, only one person would know what therapy was like because she'd told him she'd went.

He pulled out his cell phone as he headed towards the car he'd gotten from the motor pool; Mac had put him on call for the rest of the day after his therapy session and had authorized car use in case he needed to come in. He hit the familiar speed dial number and waited until the other end was picked up. "Hey, Montana, you busy? Got time for lunch?"

****

\---

She looked up at him as he approached. She'd gotten a salad and a green tea to go from this hole-in-the-wall restaurant she went to a lot and met up with Danny in Central Park. She'd picked the spot: a grassy area under some trees. There were benches there, but if she was taking an hour for lunch outside, she was sitting on the grass.

He sat on the bench in front of her, looking down at her. He didn't have any food, just her bottle of green tea; he'd had a milkshake and she'd traded him for it. She was surprised when he'd agreed. "So...what was your therapy like?"

"A lot of talking. On my part, I mean. The guy I saw listened a lot, I guess. Half the time I doubt he was even really listening, but I was getting things out, so..."

"Did he kind of prod you along?" He brought the tea up to his lips after he asked the question. Not his usual drink, but she had seemed to really want the milkshake and it was a fair enough trade..

Lindsay tilted her head. "No, not really." She thought for a moment. "Not the first one, anyway."

He paused and lowered the tea. "You had more than one?"

"When I was in high school, I went into therapy again. The reason why isn't important, but this guy was good. He'd let me talk, but if there was something he thought I needed to expand upon, or maybe needed to steer away from for the moment, he'd ask a question that did just that."

He nodded, bringing the drink back up to his lips and taking a drink before lowering it again. "This guy I have to see, he's not so bad."

"That's good," she said. She'd pretty much abandoned the idea of eating until Danny got whatever it was he needed to talk to her about off his chest; she took this as a sign she could start in on it. She opened up the salad.

"That smells good. What is it?"

"Chicken Caesar salad, with whole wheat croutons, sprouts, and Roma tomatoes, topped with Asiago cheese."

He stood up, and to her amazement, sat down next to her on the grass. "Can I?" She speared some of it for him and let him take a bite. "Where'd you get it from?"

"Dog Star Salads," she said. "You make your own salads, or you can get pre-made ones to go. You can also call in ones and they'll make them for you. I had them make this after you called me. You want some more?"

He shook his head. "Go ahead, eat. Don't want to keep you from your lunch." He laid down on his back. "Is it okay if I ramble a bit?"

"Knock yourself out," Lindsay said as she chewed a mouthful of salad.

"This is the first time I've ever asked you to grab a bite with me and you've said yes. You know that? Glad you did today."

She said nothing, but she did start to grin a little. She hadn't been blind to the fact he'd made attempts to ask her out...not really. But today, she'd said yes because if nothing else, he needed a friend, and she was determined to be one. If it turned into anything more than that, great. If it didn't, no big loss. "I'm glad I did, too."

"So anyway," he said, leaning back slightly, "he asked about my friends a lot..."


	4. Chapter 4

Four weeks later, Danny was sitting in the waiting room, staring out the window again. He had to admit that maybe he'd been wrong about this whole thing. It was nice to get stuff off his chest that no one would ever hear if he was lucky. He had started to talk about his brother for the first time since the beating, but not much. He still wasn't talking about Aiden. For some reason, her death had hurt him more than his brother's beating.

 _It might have something to do with the fact that technically he's still alive,_ he thought to himself. _Aid's six feet under and all I get is a fucking tombstone to go see._

He pulled his mind away from those thoughts; he was making it a point to not walk into the office angry. There were times he'd deal with Mac and want to snap at him but he was holding his tongue. There were things happening that normally wouldn't irritate him but had been driving him crazy. Every Thursday he unloaded on Dr. Skoda. Skoda had hinted that if he could hold it all in until Thursday, maybe it wouldn't be so hard to handle it the next week. Danny found he was agreeing with the man; after each of his last two visits, he noticed that while he still got irritated more than usual, it was becoming easier to handle.

He heard a door opening and looked to the office, but the door remained closed. He turned around and saw an older man in a bad suit and an overcoat looking right at him. "Waiting on Skoda?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"You're here early," the man said.

Danny shrugged. "Got a longer lunch than usual."

He looked at the man closely. "You look familiar."

Danny took a good look at the man. "So do you."

"You a cop?" Danny nodded. "Let me guess... Vice? SVU?"

Danny shook his head. "Crime labs."

"So you work with Detective Taylor," the man said, a smile easing onto his face. "Good guy, but one of the biggest hardasses I've ever met."

It was Danny's turn to grin. "Yeah, that's Mac all right."

The man sat down in the chair next to him. "Lennie Briscoe. Former detective."

"Danny Messer," Danny said, reaching out a hand that Lennie shook. "I'm surprised I didn't recognize you. I know Flack's dad worked a few cases with you."

"And how is Junior doing? Heard he got hurt bad."

"He's better now." Flack had told him enough stories about his father that had included Lennie that he knew Lennie was a good guy, better than Flack's father. "Should be back at work in a few weeks."

"Let him know I said I hope he feels better."

Danny nodded. "I'll do that." He pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?"

"I'm supposed to meet with Skoda later but I need to reschedule."

"Couldn't you have called?"

"I could have, but Skoda and I are old friends. He helped me get through a rough period when I almost went back to the bottle." He held up his keys. "I'm into years of sobriety, not days or months. And that's thanks to Skoda."

"He really that good?" Danny asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Kid, for some reason he chose you and that means a lot. He doesn't take clients often since he'd rather work on cases."

Danny grinned a bit. "Haven't had anyone call me a kid in a long time."

"You're, what, in your mid-thirties?"

"Early."

"Trust me, you're a kid."

Danny began to reply when the office door opened and Dr. Skoda walked out. "I'm going to have to reschedule, Danny. Something came up. I've already talked to Detective Taylor and he's agreed to let you come by tomorrow at the same time."

Danny nodded and stood up. "Then I'll be here tomorrow." He nodded towards Lenny. "Nice meeting you."

"You too, kid. Tell Junior what I said."

"And I'll tell him you called him Junior, too. He might rip a few stitches laughing, though."

Lennie laughed. "I'll take the blame for that." Danny grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. Lennie waited a minute or two before turning to Skoda. "He seems okay."

Skoda sat down. "Normally I wouldn't have asked you, but..."

"Hey, you saved my life after..." He shook his head. "Point is, you wanted me to get a measure of the guy. He's more like Curtis than he is like Stabler." He thought for a minute. "If he's got Don's son as a friend, that'll help. Most level-headed detective I've ever met."

"I was hoping you'd say something like that," Skoda said, sitting in the seat Danny had vacated.

"He's opening up, right? Give him the time he needs, even if you have to fudge things with his boss a little."

Skoda smiled slightly. "You got all that from a brief conversation with him?"

"I did my research." Skoda's grin widened. "What? Detective Green helped me out. I'm his old partner...it's nice to do things for the elderly and the retired. I know just about everything that's in the folder you have on the kid, except whatever you've learned from his own mouth." He stood up. "You just have to know who and how to ask."

"You have a point there." Skoda stood up as well.

Lennie nodded. "I did my part. Now you owe me lunch." Skoda finally let loose a real smile and went back into his office. Helping save Lennie from the despair he'd sunk into after his daughter's murder was probably one of the things he was proudest of, and it had given him a good friend in the process.

He just hoped he could do the same thing with Danny...


	5. Chapter 5

Danny was contemplative the entire day and into the next, all the way up to his rescheduled therapy appointment. He asked Don a bit more about Lennie Briscoe, and the stories he shared and the fact Briscoe had said he was _years_ into sobriety had given him a lot to think about. Not that he hadn’t seen some improvements in his life as he’d started opening up more; if nothing else, things were better with Monroe and things were good with Don. It was just...well, he didn’t want to talk about the big hurts, and he was worried Skoda would stop giving him time and push, and he knew if that happened he’d clam right back up.

But as Skoda opened the door and let him in, he seemed willing to wait. He sat down at his neck, pencil in hand but not attempting to write anything. They stayed quiet for a good five or so minutes before Danny spoke. “You’re not going to push?”

“On the advice of a friend, I’m going to give you time, even if I have to fudge things with your boss a bit,” Skoda said. “I know there are things that you’re keeping close to the vest, and that’s okay. You don’t completely trust me yet. When we get to the point where you really trust me, you’ll open up about it. But I have a question for you.”

“Shoot, I guess,” Danny said, relaxing a bit.

“Why did you want to become a cop?”

Danny hesitated. “If I tell you that edges into the deep hurt territory, you won’t push too much, will you?”

Skoda nodded. “Tell me as much or as little as you want.”

Danny was quiet for a long while and then he spoke, choosing his words carefully. “My brother, he ran with a crew known as the Tanglewood Boys. He never wanted me to get really mixed up with them. Thought I could do better. And it wasn’t...I mean, Louie got in trouble. Serious trouble, but not the type to send him upstate. Sonny was too smart for that, at least for a while.” He paused. “That kind of pushes into the deep hurt territory.”

“So your brother was mixed up with the wrong crowd and the leader kept them all from getting caught,” Skoda said with a nod. “Eventually their luck ran out, I take it?”

“Yeah. And I...can't talk about that,” Danny said, shaking his head. “Not right now. My brother got hurt trying to take care of me and I...I don’t know. Can’t really think about it without wanting to hurt someone or feel guilty.”

“Fair enough,” Skoda said. “So you wanted to be a cop to do the right thing, then?”

Danny let out a relieved breath. “Yeah. Where I’m from you become a hood rat or a cop. My brother went to the gangs, but he wanted me to do better and so did our Ma, so I got into a Catholic school, got a basketball scholarship to college for a bit, stayed in after I couldn’t play in that level anymore and got a degree in biology with a minor in criminology. Figured I could do more good that way. Then I went into the Academy, did the patrol thing for a while, and when Mac was looking for people for his team, he handpicked me.”

“Must have felt good, having the head of the crime labs pick you for his team.”

Danny grinned at that. “Yeah. Yeah, it really did. And I wanted to do him proud, just like I wanted to do my family proud. Even Louie...he knew I’d loved science since I was a kid, so he was proud of me even though we were on opposite sides of things. We drifted apart for a while, but that mattered.”

Skoda nodded and then wrote something down. “Do you think Detective Taylor is still proud of you?”

“I don’t know,” Danny admitted. “I know he wants me to talk to you, thinks it will help, but I’ve screwed up majorly twice recently. I think he thinks I’m...a loose cannon or something, I don’t know. He leaned back in his seat, linked his hands together and placed them behind his head. “But I don’t think he wants to give up on me. If that was the case he could have kicked me to another team or even busted me down to patrol again.”

“And he didn’t,” Skoda noted.

“Nope. Just told me therapy was mandatory and to give you a chance.” Danny looked Skoda in the eye. “Have to say, you aren’t too bad, Doc. I’m at least realizing it’s good to talk about some of this stuff.”

“You feel okay talking about the mistakes you said you made that Detective Taylor could have used against you for a demotion?”

“The first one, yeah, but not the second. That’s got to do with my brother and that whole situation.”

“Fair enough,” Skoda said with a nod. “Then why don’t you go into, say, the incident and the time around it. As much as you feel comfortable with.”

Danny nodded and started to talk. For the first time, he really mentioned Aiden and saw the light of recognition in Skoda’s eyes at the name, so at least he knew now that Skoda knew about her and some of the part she’d played in his life. Maybe not the full circumstances of her death, but it was something. He talked about Stella and Hawkes and Flack, and how they’d rallied around him while he was under suspicion of shooting one of their own, and then he found himself going forward in his career, talking about the more minor screw-ups he’d had. By the time his session was over, he’d almost gotten to Aiden’s leaving the crime lab, but cut it short.

Skoda looked down at his notes and then back up at Danny. “Do you feel comfortable talking about Detective Burn? Not her death, but her absence from the crime labs and what that did to you.”

So, apparently, he did know she had died. “I think I can.”

“Good. We don’t have to touch on anything regarding her that you’re uncomfortable with, but she seems to have been a positive influence on your time as a Detective.”

“She was a friend. I just wasn’t much of one in return,” he said quietly.

“Sometimes even friendships are quiet at times,” he said. “I think she knew you cared even if you saw her less. I don’t think you could have given up your time with her completely.”

“No, I couldn’t. She was...good.”

“I’m sure she was.” He set his notes aside. “We can talk about Detective Flack and Detective Monroe, too. They seem to be a good support system for you now.”

“Yeah, they are,” Danny said with a small smile. “Don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“Then that’s what we’ll talk about next time,” he said. Danny stood up then. “And Danny?”

“Yeah?” he said, pausing to get his suit jacket.

“I think this session was helpful in letting me know why Detective Taylor wanted me to help you. You’re a good man and a good detective. You’ve just got a lot on your plate. I can help sort it out.”

Danny’s smile got bigger. “Thanks, Doc. See you next time.”

“See you next time.”


	6. Chapter 6

The sessions continued as the weeks went on. He knew he’d gone past the amount of time that Mac had wanted for it to be resolved, but he had the feeling Skoda was encouraging Mac to let him set his own pace because Mac never objected to him leaving for the afternoon sessions. It started to get easier to talk about his past, and he was surprised when he started edging into the events leading up to and surrounding Louie being put into the coma. He had a lot more anger at Sonny Sassone than he had realized and the session where he finally let it out instead of keeping it bottled so deep inside, he knew the next session he could talk about Louie. Finally, the guilt seemed to have worn off and all that was left was sadness. But sadness was easier to deal with than guilt; it didn’t feel so heavy or burdensome, and it was easier to talk about, both with Skoda and with his friends.

After that particular session, he met up with Lindsay in the park. When she could meet up with him after a session they did, and sometimes they had lunch, other times it was a bite of ice cream or a pretzel from a vendor since one or both of them had to rush someplace else. Sometimes Flack would join them and they’d share homemade food from Flack’s mom that he’d foist on them, saying she gave him too much and it would go to waste. Skoda was right; they really were his support system these days.

Today it was just him and Lindsay, and they had enough time for a meal. They had sub sandwiches from his favorite place in midtown, and he was surprised Lindsay had remembered his order. Or maybe she’d just given his name to the owner and they knew what he ordered by heart; either way, the emotional session had left him with a raging appetite and it was good to have a hearty lunch.

“So yeah, I talked about Louie today,” he said. “It was easier than I had thought it would be, but it was...good. It was good to get it out.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “After letting it all out about Louie and going a few rounds with a bag in the gym that evening, I think I was ready, and I guess I was.”

“That’s good,” she said with a warm smile. “Have you touched on Aiden yet? I know...well, that that’s something else weighing heavily on you.”

“Started to, a bit. Not her death, but more our friendship,” he said. “I think when I can open up about her it’ll be...a breakthrough, I think they call it? Maybe then I can get some peace in my life for real instead of stuffing it all down and pretending it’s fine.”

“Well, when you do, I’ll be there to celebrate this breakthrough with you, if you want.”

“I would like that,” Danny said. He set his sub down and picked up his drink. “You’ve been a really good friend through all this, Montana. You and Flack. And I’m grateful. I mean, more than I think I can actually say. I wouldn’t have agreed if you two hadn’t convinced me it was worth it, and I think...” He took a deep breath, and then moved closer to her, leaning over and softly kissing her cheek. “Thanks.”

She flushed a bit and looked down. “Well, I didn’t like seeing you hurting,” she replied. “No one deserves to be in pain. But you can’t do it all alone, either, even if it’s just trying to get help.”

“Yeah, I get that now,” he said. “So I was thinking...maybe tomorrow, after work, we could get dinner? My treat. Kind of like a date.”

Her head snapped up and she looked at him with wide eyes. “A date?”

“I mean unless you don’t want it to be, and then we can just be two friends hanging out. No pressure, I just...like you. In a very different way than I like Flack.” 

Laughter bubbled up out of her throat and she clapped her hands over her mouth, but he grinned at her and she lowered her hands. “I would love to, Danny. Just...something other than Asian or Italian? Between takeout every night at the labs for this case and Flack’s mom sending all those leftovers...”

“How about French? I may not be as much of a foodie as Flack is but I know a great French place near the labs,” he said.

She leaned in and this time kissed his cheek. “Sounds like a date, Danny.”

“Good,” he said, his grin widening. “Good.”


	7. Chapter 7

He was in a good mood by the time the next session rolled around, but more than that, he finally felt ready to let all the hurt go, and that meant talking about Aiden and all of the stuff surrounding her and her death and their friendship and the fact that he felt like a horrible friend when it came to her. The closer he got to the session the more apprehensive he felt about doing it, though, so he did his best to pump himself up, so to speak, knowing that he couldn’t truly be happy with Lindsay and the life he was leading now if he didn’t stop hurting, stop hating what had happened to one of his best friends with such a vehemence that it impacted other aspects of his life. It wasn't good to hold it in, he realized after the last session. He was always going to think her dismissal and her death was unfair, he knew that, but he had to start letting go. Start being the operative word; like the situation with Louie, he wasn’t done letting go, but it was a start. And a start was what he needed...maybe if Skoda agreed, they could work on it for a while even after the mandated sessions were done.

Skoda let him into the office and he went to his chair, trying to have a confident air about him, that because of their talks, he could start doing the serious work now. He knew he could do it, he trusted Skoda to help him with it, and so he wanted to show he was ready in actions and words. He sat in his chair and leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, looking at Skoda. “I want to talk about Aiden and all the stuff with her death.”

Skoda nodded, and to his credit if he was surprised he didn't let it show on his face. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I’m trying to...psych myself up, I guess? But I feel mostly ready, and if I don’t do it now I don’t think I’ll ever do it.”

“Then today I’m just listening,” he said, setting down his pen and pushing his paper away. He leaned back in the seat of his and put his hands folded together in his lap. “No notes today.”

“Okay, good, good.” Danny took a deep breath. The fact that none of this would ever get back to Mac, he was sure, helped. He could speak as freely as he would ever be able to, he thought. “I know she wanted to be a PI because she couldn't take him off the streets with us. She didn't plant evidence but she got sacked and I think that was wrong, and being a PI was her second chance. And...I know she was training for it, and with her cop training, she’d have made a damn fine PI. Could have helped so many people. Like, cops are supposed to dislike PIs since they get in the way, but she would have been such an asset since she knew the ins and outs of everything, you know? She would have been better than even the best, like the guys on TV, like Magnum PI. But she just _had_ to go after the bastard. And honestly, I don’t think anything I or Stell or Mac or anyone else said would have made her change her mind, no matter how much we would have wanted to, and that's with us not even knowing what the bastard was capable of. She needed him off the streets.” He paused. “She needed to be the one to _take_ him off the streets.”

“Because he was the one who got away?” Skoda asked.

“I think. She was invested in that case. But Mac shouldn’t have fired her, you know? She thought about tampering with evidence but she didn’t do it. Mac would give me a yard but he didn’t give her an inch and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s that double standard. I think while I blame the bastard more than anything, I blame Mac, too. If he’d just...” He took another deep breath. “If she’d stayed at the labs I think she’d still be alive. But I can’t dwell on it because it will drive me mad, and I’m there and I need to do the job that she’d want me to do, you know?”

“I can understand that,” Skoda replied. “You want to honor her legacy.”

“Exactly!” Danny said, lifting an arm up and pointing at Skoda in one quick movement. “Like, she can’t do it anymore. I have to, know, because I can sometimes hear her sitting on my shoulder, saying ‘Suck it up, Messer, you’ve got a job to do’ and that motivates me.” Skoda nodded and he continued. “But I swear, if the bastard gets the death penalty, I will be there to watch him get the needle. I mean, I don’t think it will make me feel _better_ per se. But I want to make sure there’s no tricks, that he’s dead and can never get on the streets again. That her death wasn’t in vain, you know?”

“Watching someone die sometimes doesn’t help,” he said.

Danny sighed then. “I know. But I also know he’s slick. He’s skated on all those rapes. I want him dead the way she is. Maybe I’ll be there the day he dies, maybe I won’t, but I don’t think I’ll ever be fully settled with all this until he’s dead.”

“And you don’t feel the same way about Sonny?”

“I do, but I don’t? I guess because Louie isn’t dead and is just in a coma, there’s hope he might wake up. It’s similar, but different, you know? If Louie was dead I’d probably want to push the needle in myself, but he could wake up. He could eventually be the way he used to be, and holding onto that hope helps.”

“That’s understandable,” Skoda said with another nod. “You miss them both, though.”

“I do. I like to think Louie and Aiden would be teasing me about my life, and Aiden would have been tethered to Flack’s side after the bomb, and Louie would insist he got to meet Lindsay before it got all serious. Aiden would tease me that the women of New York would mourn the day I gave up my little black book and Flack would be taking dibs. I mean, it’s nothing serious yet, but...”

“So you and Lindsay are an item?”

“Could be, yeah. We went on a date. French restaurant near the labs. She’s got today off and I’m taking the afternoon off so we’re going to see a black and white Hitchcock film at this little theater near her place and get lunch somewhere. It’s...nice. Didn’t think it’d feel right before, but now it does.”

“So you’re living your life again.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to. Since the sessions started, things are better. I’m not getting as angry as easily, not bottling it up until it explodes. I can remember good things and not hurt so bad. I think it’s been a good thing, but...I don’t think I’m done yet, you know what I mean?”

“I do,” Skoda said. “I think that I would be willing to tell Detective Taylor you don’t need any more mandated sessions, but if you want to continue the sessions regardless, I’d be amenable to that.”

Danny grinned at the psychiatrist. “Good. Good. I...yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I mean, I’ve come far, but I still have a way to go. But I’ve got good people around me, I’ve got friends and I’m not keeping them at arm's length anymore. And I’m even kind of taking joy in the job again. Life is better. It just could be even better, you know?”

“I know,” Skoda replied. “And I’ll be here to help, as long as you need me to.” Skoda stood up then, offering his hand to Danny, and Danny stood up and shook it. “I think we can end this session early if you want to go out and live that life you’re so close to living fully again.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Danny said, releasing Skoda’s hand. He made his way to the door and opened it, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulder. It felt good to finally kind of hit the truth about how he _really_ felt, but there was more to dig into, more to look over and figure out how to better process it, and if he had professional help as well as the help of his friends? So much the better.

Once he left the building he pulled out his cell phone, taking a minute to appreciate the weight hat was gone. Then he dialed Lindsay’s number and waited. “Lindsay? Yeah. Session ended early. You want to do lunch before the film? I can meet you somewhere.” And as he walked to flag down a cab, he realized life was, for the first time in a while, more than just bearable.

It was good.


End file.
